


Stay and fucking study

by Folieacutie



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, minor injury but not really at all tbh just like a cut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 20:56:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10048907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Folieacutie/pseuds/Folieacutie
Summary: Jack gets checked hard during a game and remembers Bitty is watching, but, more importantly, that he has a midterm tomorrow and should be studying, not worrying about his bf.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is based off the hc from Onethousandroaches tumblr, "one time at a home game jack got checked p badly on the ice and as soon as he went down he knew bitty was going to flip but also that he was fine and bitty had a fucking midterm the next day so he looked right at the camera and tried to very clearly mouth the words, "stay and fucking study" before he was helped off the ice and he was proud of himself for having the presence of mind to get a message to his bf like that right up until bitty showed up in providence anyway."

Sitting on the bench after a chaotic two-minutes of ice time, Jack’s mind left the rink for a moment. Only a moment. Instead of the 1 point they needed for a lead, he thought of his pre-game PB&J and the week-old note written on it, since it’s scribe wouldn’t see him for another 15 days. Not like Jack was counting, or anything. Just a coincidence; it did happen to be Bitty’s jersey number, after all. It was also coincidence that he wanted a few warm kisses to heat his cold, runny nose. The coincidences lined up in his head, one soothing image after another. They made him smile.

Once his coach shouted, “Change! Change! Line 1!” he threw himself over the side and took hurried strides out onto the ice, eyes searching for the puck.

He had the puck in his line of sight. Cheers resounded around the arena as he closed in on the player. It was _right there…_

 With a quick swipe of his stick the puck was his - then two of Anaheim’s D-men swerved by, dangerously close, and Jack veered to avoid. The black disc was flung up the ice, far, far away... into Falcs territory.

His breath rose in short spurts as he cursed and sprinted, again, towards the Forward, sweat already dripping down his neck. He came up on the player. Burning legs holding the pace, Jack crashed into him. His shoulder collided with his and they flew into the boards. Giving himself zero reaction time, his feet squabbled for the puck when his stick couldn’t reach, the hard slap of plastic against ice proving useless. Finally, he got in a good angle and tossed the puck towards Marty who carried it out to center.

They untangled themselves quickly, each returning to the game. Jack journeyed back up the ice, ready for Marty to pass, nothing except clear ice in front of him.

A D-Man checked him.

His body hurled into Jack hip first, and Jack went airborne before he crashed down.

He knew it looked bad from the way the crowd reacted; all boo’s and gasps and yells. The blow of the whistle confirmed it. Really though, all it gave Jack was more frustration, a face full of ice chips, and a nasty cut to his ear. Plus, his nose hurt but it probably wasn’t anything major.

If it looked bad to the _crowd_ , Jack knew it’d look terrible on TV. He also knew Bitty was watching, and that he- _shit_ \- had a midterm tomorrow. Procrastinator and worry-wart that his boyfriend was, he’d waste even _more_ time calling Jack to see if he was okay, then Bob when Jack couldn’t answer, then Georgia-

Jack lifted his head, blearily located the camera lodged between the glass and mouthed (as clearly as he could with a piece of ice hanging from his lip), “ _Stay and fucking study,’_ before he was unceremoniously hauled from the rink.

Yet he had peace of mind; he knew he’d gotten his point across, even if it caused mass confusion to everyone else who wasn’t his boyfriend. Who knows? Maybe it would seem like an inspirational message to children to stay in school.

 

\------

 

Thankfully it was a home game, which meant when the last period wrapped up (a Falconer’s win) Jack got to drop face-first into his own bed.

He dragged himself through the threshold of his apartment and released his duffle, looking forward to brushing his teeth and passing out. He had gauze on his ear and some stuffed up his nostril, and he was so, so tired.

The sight of a small blonde person sitting at his kitchen table instantly roused him awake.

“Bits?”

Bitty held his hand up, “Hold on I’m just finishing this paragraph…”

Raising a bemused eyebrow, Jack closed his door and leaned against it, smiling like a fool. It had nothing to do with the pain meds.

“Wow, Bittle. Never thought I’d see the day where you’d choose not to procrastinate. Also, I thought you said you were at home.”

“Well, _Mr. Zimmermann,_ someone did tell me over national television that I should study, so…”

“And did you study on the train ride here?”

“Yep.”

“Somehow I find a hard time believing that.”

“I might have stopped every so often to panic over that hit-”

“Mhm.”

“-But I assure you, I was a lot more productive with limited cell service and lack of yelling Haus-mates.”

Jack nodded. His smile made his cheeks hurt more than his injuries did as he continued watching his boyfriend. The yellow lighting in the kitchen made Bitty’s gold hair shine, his elbows supporting his weight while he leaned over a stack of books and squinted in concentration.

Jack decided he could watch Bitty all day when he dropped his pencil to the table and sat up triumphantly, “There, done!”

Then he rose from the chair and lifted his gaze to Jack, concern finally shining through. “Oh, oh Honey,” he met Jack halfway, and grabbed his chin to inspect his face. “They got that nose more stuffed than a turkey.”

Jack’s body seized up in laughter. He couldn’t help himself from scooping Bitty in a hug. “You _really_ shouldn’t have come, but,” he sighed softly, “I’m so glad you’re here.”  

“And I’m glad you’re all in one piece, sweet-pea. Now-” he fixed a stern expression and tapped Jack’s nose (the effect was lost from how adorable he looked doing it), “don’t you _ever_ go announcing things on cameras like that again. The amount of times I had to hear analysts argue over your possible words was intolerable and my _god_ the _explanations_ -”

Jack smirked, “It worked though, didn’t it?”

Bitty scoffed, “ _Well._ ”

“So,” Jack set Bitty down and walked into his kitchen. “Where’s the rest of your books? You should really get on that. Big exam tomorrow.”

He heard Bitty sigh from behind him, “Lord. I should’ve known…”

 


End file.
